Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Taking it too far

So I may have a case of making my own bed and being forced to lie in it. Yes, the name of this blog is I, Spider. Yes, there is a very cute little spider crawling around at the top. And, yes, I have been known to display spider cling-stickers year-round. I take pride in my spiderness. And this

New friend

is indeed the little friend who keeps me company on my work laptop.

However.

I do not like the kind of spiders that crawl across my living room floor at midnight when I am very innocently sitting on my couch trying to watch Jay Leno and Steve is already fast asleep. I do not enjoy begging my husband to get up and kill the monster only to be turned down with a grunt and a muffled "Just use a shoe!" from under the pillow while a giant arachnid is attacking Flash.

NOT new friend

Please note that the monster's legs were actually twice the length they appear. This photo was taken after I drowned it in Ant/Roach spray (the only thing I had that didn't require me to touch anything that was touching the spider) and it shriveled up it's creepy crawly legs and DIED already! Woo hoo! And yes, those are indeed puddles you see on the floor around it. I told you, it drowned. I didn't want to take any chances.

We had one spider of similar size and monstrosity in the kids' rooms (it ran from one to the other and they had to chase it) earlier in the night. We've also had another one make an appearance in the living room since then. Luckily, Steve was awake to deal with that one. I'm out of Ant/Roach spray.

I just want to make it clear - The only spiders I like are fake and cute! These ginormous cat-eating jumping wolf spider beasts do NOT qualify in either category. So. If I have somehow developed a following out in the spider community, I want to tell them all right now: Don't come to my house. You are not invited. Perhaps I have gotten carried away with the spider thing. My bad. But don't come here. I will kill you. If not by cat attack (because they get a little scared when the spiders jump back at them - no lie!), then by drowning, or I'll call in The Husband. You know, .38, .39, whatever it takes.

1 comment:

Elizabeth said...

I feel your pain, friend. I told you about the drowned spider I left in my hotel closet under a glass, didn't I? I did. I left it there for housekeeping. I put the glass over it after I sprayed it with hair spray and suntan lotion (I used the latter when I ran out of the former) because I still needed to sleep in the room one more night, and I wasn't taking any chances. Being a spider doesn't mean you want real ones. Seriously.